Mt. McLoughlin
Into the Jaws of
Death
Solo Climb as a senior
in High School on the north face of Mt Mcloughlin 9,495 ft.
One young man's Eigerwand.
After a perilous solo traverse
of the north face, Bruce attained the NW ridge, and recorded this
inspiring view across the sweep of Mt McLoughlin's little known
north face; shown are Fourmile Lake, Upper Klamath Lake, and Yamsay
Mountain, 8,196 ft, on the distant eastern skyline. Pelican Butte, 8,000 ft, the proposed site of Oregon's
newest ski area, lies just to the left edge of this picture. Mt.
McLoughlin is Oregon's
most southerly major Cascades volcano, and it was last active
during the height of the Roman Empire, thus making its last fires
contemporaneous with the flows of McKenzie Pass to the north.
A deadly boulder
the size of a Volkswagen came crashing down the dirty rock gut
in the center of the picture, just seconds after I had sweated
my way across the slope in the broiling sun. When the giant finally
entered the trees far below, it was just a dot, but it sent trees
flying into pieces, soundlessly. Here's some dramatic
Serenity in the Sky.................................................
Bruce sitting on the
foundations of the old fire lookout station atop Mt. McLoughlin,
gazing 75 miles south at Mt. Shasta, 14,162 ft., and dreaming
of the life led by the fire lookouts who formerly lived on the
summit. Click here to read one of my
mountain stories based upon Serenity
in the Sky.
Page
Last Revised 01/03/2007
Dawning
He sat alone
on the mountain peak, high in the morning sun, his gaze extending
for a hundred miles in all directions. He had been there since
dawn, and in the vast sweep of forests and plains, there was no
sign that humankind and its noisy civilizations had ever existed.
It was so quiet that the small sounds of the mountain responding
to the heat of the sun became preternatually clear, little creaks
and groans, a distant rock breaking loose and tumbling down a
scree slope. Overhead the vast deep blue sky was glowing with
an inner light. Suddenly two hawks appeared from below, riding
the morning's thermals. One drifted close enough that the sounds
of the wind over its body was briefly heard. The wind blew them
out of sight over the shoulder of the mountain. They were vanished.
Only he remained,
alone and strangely joyous. Such a vast World, a New World. Long
days to be lived far beyond the sight and sound of parents, spouses,
friends, teachers, employers, police. Companionship to be had
with a whole range of wild things big and small that lived out
their lives knowing nothing of the dominion of Man.....Man himself
just a passing fancy of the Planet. Many years were to pass before
he was to realize that what had dawned on him that morning was
a larger Life, a bigger Vision, and a reconnection to things ancient
and primordial. Never was he to be truly alone again; alienation,
the malaise of modern man, had lost its power over his life.
Story copyrighted
Bruce B. Johnson 2007
Links to some
of my other outdoor adventure stories:
"Mountain Night on the Skyline Trail"
"Old Trail"
"Dark Lake of My Dreams"